Ravello

Exit Villa Rufolo, turn right, and follow Via San Francesco — a narrow lemon-scented lane that climbs gently past convents and tile-painted shrines for ten minutes until you reach an unassuming wooden gate. Beyond it lies the Terrace of Infinity: a marble balustrade lined with 18th-century busts that stare out at nothing but blue. Wander first through the rose pergola and the small Temple of Bacchus (where Gore Vidal asked to be remembered) so the Terrace becomes your final, unannounced reveal.

Tip: Skip the postcard shot at the central balustrade where everyone queues — walk to the far-right end of the terrace where a stone bench frames the entire coastline through the busts. The light is cleanest between 11:00 and 12:00, when the sun is high enough to lift the haze off the sea but before it bleaches the marble bone-white. The small Crypt below the terrace is usually overlooked: duck in for the medieval frescoes and a five-minute respite from the heat.

Walk back down Via San Francesco the way you came — ten downhill minutes — then turn right onto Via Trinità, where Babel sits behind a small wooden door with a chalkboard out front. This is where Ravello's locals go when they want food fast and honest: handmade pasta with walnut pesto, cured meats from Cilento, mozzarella shipped that morning from Tramonti, all on small ceramic plates. Eat at the bar — you're saving the long lunch for a city with fewer afternoon sights.

Tip: Order the tagliere misto (mixed board with cheeses, cured meats and fig mostarda, €18) and ask for the smoked provola — it isn't on the menu but they keep it under the counter for regulars. A glass of Tintore from the Furore vineyards (€7) is the local pour; skip the Aperol spritz, which is for tourists and costs almost double.

From Babel, two minutes down Via Trinità return you to Piazza Duomo, the open stone stage at the heart of town — Ravello's cathedral stands directly in front of you, its plain 11th-century facade hiding bronze doors cast in 1179 by Barisano da Trani with 54 panels you can read like a comic strip. The marble pulpit inside is held up by six twisted columns standing on lions, with peacocks and mosaic vines climbing across it (a glance through the open door is enough). The piazza itself is the real stage — locals gather here at every hour, and so should you.

Tip: Find the lion biting a serpent in the lower-right corner of the bronze doors (the one facing the door, not the wall) — locals touch it for luck before walking on. The cleanest photograph of the campanile is from the small fountain at the western edge of the piazza, where the bell tower lines up perfectly with the sea horizon behind it. Pasticceria Pansa in the corner of the piazza has been there since 1830 — buy a sfogliatella santarosa (€2.80) to eat now and a lemon delizia to save for the belvedere.

From the piazza, walk west along Via della Repubblica for five minutes — past the gelato carts and shaded stone benches — and the cliffside suddenly opens to a curved white sail of concrete: Oscar Niemeyer's only building in Italy, completed in 2010 when the architect was 103. The single oval 'eye' cut into its wall frames the bay of Maiori like a camera lens — every angle is deliberate. The terrace just below, the Belvedere Principessa di Piemonte, is where Ravello's locals come to watch the day end; claim a spot on the low wall and stay.

Tip: The auditorium itself only opens for concerts, but the real prize is free — walk around its left side to the lower belvedere and lean over the wall: on clear days you can see the coast curl all the way toward Capri. Stay (or come back) between 17:30 and 18:30 when the light hits Maiori's lemon terraces at a low angle and turns them gold — this is the hour every photographer in town stakes out, so arrive ten minutes early for a wall spot.

As the last light leaves the coast, walk three minutes back up Via Boccaccio — Ristorante Garden's terrace is your reward, perched on the same cliff at the historic Hotel Garden where Wagner himself stayed in 1880 (and where Jackie Kennedy dined a century later). The kitchen does honest, unpretentious Amalfitano cooking on linen tablecloths: ndunderi (knobbled ricotta gnocchi already mentioned by Pliny the Elder, €18) and grilled local sea bream with lemon leaves (€28). Sit on the terrace side — candles, cliffs, and the lights of Maiori twinkling below are the Ravello you came for.

Tip: Reserve a terrace table at least two days ahead — the indoor dining room has no view and unbooked walk-ins are seated inside without apology. Avoid the cluster of restaurants along Via dei Rufolo that flash 'panoramic view' signs above their menus: most charge €25 for an industrial caprese and the 'view' is straight into another restaurant's terrace. The last SITA bus down to Amalfi leaves Piazza Auditorium at 22:25 — set an alarm, because taxis after that hour cost €40 minimum and are hard to find.